


Guardian Rage

by SecretDinosaur_Rexie



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Gen, Identity Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24506962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretDinosaur_Rexie/pseuds/SecretDinosaur_Rexie
Summary: Satan has the unique advantage among his brothers of possessing two brain cells to rub together for tasks outside his specialist subject. And innate familiarity with rage.So it’s time to sort out the twist in this little drama.Or in Levi naming: I'm Too Good at Drama-Mysteries! What Might I Accidentally Uncover?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Guardian Rage

The nature of an avatar of sin was to be a lord, the dominant power among darkness. Rank mattered of course but every avatar was the absolute of their domain, and nothing within the realm of their sin could fully escape them. Knowledge of and influence over their sin came with the position and could even affect those beyond their own rank. To facilitate this every avatar had various powers to augment their connection to their sin, and general demonic powers enhansed by their sin.

Wrath didn’t just comprise Satan’s core he _was_ wrath. The wrath of every being was his by right. None of that wrath was more intimately familiar than the wrath that had forged him. His siblings had pooled their rage and anguish, forging his soul from sheer hatred bound to a demonic name.

Satan made a serious effort to present another front, to keep control and smile. An ongoing practice that took time and dedication. He could school his expression. Years were spent practicing and refining expected reactions. He scoured ancient libraries and cured tomes to learn what was a normal way to reply to a question and what had his conversation partner ducking for cover. Reading until no one could dismiss his knowledge. He needed to present as more than his component parts. To prove everyone wrong and change their opinion of him. Wearing a mask well meant knowing what was underneath. Satan knew his wrath.

It was impossible to forget.

Impossible as it was to ignore the wisps of rage around him. The minor demons beneath his power leaked it constantly, but everyone had a unique wrath. And every special different one called to him, told him the bare truth the depths of cruelty that they would sink to in their worst moments.

So, Satan came to love murder mysteries. In the fictional ones, he had the rare opportunity to not already know who was dripping in his sin. It was like seeing things without color and gaining a new appreciation for the limited senses they had to fumble through with. And in the event of a real murder, already knowing the culprit made the puzzle all the sweeter. The great detective could work from any angle he pleased until he had a version of events that was the one truth. Then finding a way that he could then that truth to those that couldn’t plainly see the murderous wrath coating the culprit.

Perhaps it was right that he was the only one who noticed their exchange human was more than they seemed. The familiar nostalgic quality to their rage and the strange places it flared inexplicably were invisible to his brothers. 

It was frankly embarrassing how they missed it completely. The peculiarities were obvious from early on. On the first day, the human started to vibrate an odd bottled wrath incensed at some lecture being received by Mammon. He could feel their protectiveness over Mammon. Bizarre, he was supposed to protect them not the other way around. They barely knew the scumbag and he’d threatened to eat her mere hours ago.

It was… intriguing. That bottled rage became something of a pattern, cropping up around cruel words or random incidental actions. He watched her start to put pieces in place for a pact with Leviathan. That strange quality of her rage was a mystery he urgently needed more clues to solve.

As much as Satan loathed to ally with Lucifer on anything, if this human was suspicious or ill intentioned that odd rage was the only clue. As frustrating as they could be, he wouldn’t allow his brothers to be trapped in a pact that endangered them. Solomon wore his shady nature openly, this human kept whatever secrets randomly spiked outrage hidden deep under a smile not quite as fake as his own and a stubborn streak nearly as deep.

Things came to a head with Levi as arranged. Satan played his part in the familiar routine of staged family squabble, now with added human and less calls for nap breaks. He threw in smug commentary, egging things on and pushing on Levi’s poorly concealed buttons. When sailing got a bit too smooth he put a finger on the scale to ensure things would tip properly into a mess and embarrass Lucifer.

As the human started to recite details from the next unreleased volume of TSL, Satan set to his own work, seeding a little bit of his own endless rage to tip Levi’s envy from frustration to murderous. A good scare would be a fitting punishment for brining in spoilers. And perhaps he could taste that rage again.

Then Mammon stumbled, failing to come to his human’s side even with an opponent like Levi, who honestly shouldn’t have been a challenge. His older brothers were without exception deeply embarrassing.

Even with Mammon taking himself out of the equation as protector it wasn’t as though there was any danger real to the human. Not with Lucifer and Diavolo watching over the proceedings. But instead of tasting the human’s bizarre rage again, Satan felt nothing. There was no wrath in response to Leviathan’s attack. He’d heard the fear and a call for help but no malice threaded in those words. None at Leviathan’s outburst or Mammon’s failure as in pact and as protector. Well those were inevitable, there was a chance they were just fast to catch on. But this did merit a full investigation. Which meant learning bothering to remember the sole suspect’s name and anything else he could find about them.

The rest of the school day Satan spent poking around, he didn’t learn much more than gossip that had originated under his nose at the House of Lamentation. Yuki was adapting to the grimoire well, Asmo found them an entertaining enough seat partner. The only thing that was odd was Asmo’s restraint. Yuki had looked into his brother’s eyes without melting under charm a few times. Even with an order Asmodeus couldn’t hold back his natural charm altogether. A missing soul? Strange heritage? A thread to investigate at least, something else odd to confirm his senses. 

Upon the return to the house of Lamentation, Yuki drew their claimed demons away to some secret plot. Of course, there were no secrets from a detective, and Mammon was quite loud. Apparently, this whole plot against Levi had been a plot to entice Lucifer out of his usual attentiveness. Really Satan wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t take full advantage of the eldest’s distraction for personal gain. The investigation thus paused for the night, he conscripted Asmo to join him breaking curfew with the promise of a party.

The next morning was strange not helped by Asmo drinking him under the table the previous night. That rage was back, and steady completely unspoken but simmering in Yuki’s every movement. A desperate helpless rage, still fiercely protective as the first he’d sensed them. Through the hangover it was hard to sift through the details of the rest of the table for anything unusual details were foggy, but nothing seemed stronger than expected and none of them matched Yuki. Well, whatever had set them off this time. If it was an argument was a one-sided argument.

The next pieces of the puzzle came a few days later with the opportunity to witness her rage under extreme circumstances. In Lilith’s tomb. The angel chihuahua had either made a mistake or overplayed his hand. And conveniently, Yuki was caught in the crossfire alongside poor trusting Beel. So, Satan watched carefully not the physical but the mental, feeling the edges of his domain and demanding complete knowledge from it. He was careful to keep his active powers out of the bubbling kettle of emotion. An unbiased result was needed.

Yuki stood in front of Lucifer, fragile human body between him and the objects of his rage declaring their intentions to save both where she had been offered one. 

In the crypt he was finally able to put a name to the rage, its familiarity mingling with memories. Honestly, it was a testament to the collective density of his family they all hadn’t immediately put it together.

And above the choking roar of Lucifer’s rage Satan could feel another wrath, a candle holding steady in a windstorm. Familiar in a way he’d thought lost forever. So obvious when she stood exactly as she always had, on top of her own grave. With the same determination that had carried their family to war and protectiveness that had pulled her brothers through.

_Lilith_

Or at least some fragment of Lilith’s rage, echoing in this human.

How…

**Author's Note:**

> If you spot some of the inevitable typos, inconsistencies or errors I'd love to know. You can find me on tumblr at Rexie.


End file.
